


I Know Your Arms Are Aching (From Holding Things Inside)

by Imogen_Penn



Series: Rest Your Arms [1]
Category: Captain America, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-05 08:03:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imogen_Penn/pseuds/Imogen_Penn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers didn't like Darcy Lewis. Not Much. Not at first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Know Your Arms Are Aching (From Holding Things Inside)

Well you can give your arms a rest

there’s nothing worth taking the risk

there’s nothing down here but the mess that we will leave when we see

the sky touching the earth touching the stone touching my love

You know my arms are aching to be wrapped around your spine

 -          Rest Your Arms (Low Low Low La La La Love Love Love)

 

 

Steve Rogers didn’t like Darcy Lewis. Not much. Not at first.

In some calm and generous moments, he realised that part of his animosity had nothing to do with her. She and Jane Foster had moved into Stark Tower about three months after the alien invasion of New York.

It wasn’t exactly an easy time in his life.

Not that he could remember too many easy times.  Maybe when he was crushed into a dingy one bedroom flat with Bucky, travelling to recruiting offices by day, and getting dragged out on double dates by night. But that memory made his heart ache like it would leap out of his chest, so he tried not to remember it most of the time.

After New York, though, he had started to develop a sense of belonging. Being thrown into action had forced him to put aside his misery for the time being. And leading a team had brought something important back to him. He felt useful again.

Despite SHIELD’s point of view on the situation, he and Tony continued to stick their noses in New York’s seedy business and occasionally managed to thwart a few plans.

Steve was particularly fond of breaking up a mugging. It was honest work, even though it irked him that his bruised knuckled were always healed by the time he got back to the Tower.

Even Clint and Natasha, when they weren’t otherwise involved in SHIELD business, would often join them. And while Bruce would never voluntarily engage in their “superhero shenanigans” as he called them, he was a constant presence in the Tower ever since Tony had renovated during the repairs and installed fully equipped lab space just below the living quarters.

There were enough distractions around, enough work to do cleaning up the Tower and cleaning up the city, that he didn’t have enough time to fall back into the depression that had gripped him the moment he had realised, standing in the middle of Times Square, that absolutely everything he ever knew was gone. He could almost imagine that he fit in here.

 And then, one morning, two petite young women had barged into the Tower, loud and brash and whip smart, and Steve resented it.

To be fair, he didn’t have much time to resent Jane Foster, because she spent most of her time in the Tower lab with Bruce or in the SHIELD labs, working on the Bifrost.

 Darcy, though. Darcy was everywhere.

She wore her lips red like Peggy, and her curves made him wonder what she’d look like in olive drab. But she listened to noise that she insisted was music, and tried to tell him what he should read, and wore her iPod _constantly_ , and was indelibly and irrevocably modern.

He couldn’t _stand_ her.

+

+

 “Heya Cap,” she said brightly as she breezed into the living area.

 He gritted his teeth and carefully placed a marker in his book. There was no quiet reading time available if Darcy was taking a break from the lab.

 “Miss Lewis,” he acknowledged as politely as he could, without lifting his head from his book.

She ducked around in front of him, tilting her head to read the title of his novel, “ _The African Queen_?” She said, raising an eyebrow at him.

 Steve let out a long suffering sigh. “You don’t approve?” he asked dryly.

“Well if you insist on only consuming pop culture that was produced before you were frozen, you’re never going to catch up.” She said in a matter of fact tone, falling back into a chair opposite him.

“An interesting opinion, Miss Lewis,” he said tightly, turning back to his book pointedly.

“It’s not like everything about modern culture is terrible you know,” she went on, clearly not taking the hint.

“I haven’t come across anything particularly positive yet,” he snapped back at her, harsher than he intended. Something about the way she just wouldn’t leave him be just really got to him.

 She flinched a little, and he immediately regretted his tone, but just buried his head in his book instead of apologising.

His mother would have been appalled.

 “Well,” she said, in a more subdued tone, “to be fair to modern culture, you haven’t really been looking, have you?”

He glared at the page for a long moment, not reading a word, before dropping the book in exasperation, “Maybe I don’t want to….”

She was gone, back to the lab, no doubt. Working her way into his life through the very few people he could call friends. He saw the way that Bruce was wound a little less tight around her and the way Tony actually spoke to her with respect from time to time.

He couldn’t figure out how they didn’t see it. How _pushy_ she was. Couldn’t she just let a man have his space? Did she _always_ need to be the centre of attention?

 +

 +

“Question Cap,” Darcy announced as she blew into the kitchen like a hurricane, completely ruining his morning cup of coffee.

 “Yes Miss Lewis,” he grumbled.

 “D’you know how girls in your day got their hair to stay up in those side roll thingies?”

 “Victory rolls,” he corrected her.

 “Right, victory rolls.” She agreed placidly, “Well do you?”

 “No Miss Lewis, I am not an expert on women’s hairstyles.” He ground out.

 “Aw come on, you must have seen a girl pin up her hair once or twice when you were a show girl.”

“Show girl?” he could hardly believe the nerve of her.

“Or at least taken it down,” she continued with a suggestive wink that nearly made him drop his coffee.

And then it made him think of Peggy.

“I’m not discussing it, Miss Lewis.” He said curtly.

“Didn’t mean to bring up bad memories Cap,” she said, rather softly for her, really.

“It’s the good ones that are worse,” he found himself saying. He blinked. He wasn’t quite sure where that came from. He supposed that anyone who _needled_ that much was going to draw something out eventually.

“You know,” Darcy leaned a hip against the counter near where he was sitting, “I know this tower is full of strong silent types, but sometimes it helps to talk about this stuff Cap.”

“Well I wouldn’t talk about it with _you_ Miss Lewis.” He shot back.

Dammit, she always seemed to draw him into saying something rude. He tried not to care when her soft smile hardened a little.

“Wasn’t asking you to Cap.” She responded woodenly. She was silent as she poured herself a cup of coffee and left the kitchen.

 He found it more oppressive than her chatter, for some reason.

 +

 +

Apparently, it was her birthday.

And apparently, no one had bothered to tell him about it until the last minute. In fact, it didn’t really seem like anyone was planning to tell him at all. He found out essentially by accident.

“So Cap, you picked out a birthday gift for Darcy yet?”

“A what?” Steve dropped his hands, stilling the punching bag to look back at Tony.

“They still had birthday gifts in the depression right?” Steve would almost have thought it a serious question if he didn’t know Tony better.

“I know what a birthday gift is Tony, I just don’t know why I’m supposed to be getting one for Miss Lewis.” He said shortly.

Tony raised his eyebrows, “Meow, Captain. What did Darce do to deserve that? Kick your puppy or something?”

He began unwrapping his hands, clearly not going to get any more alone time in the gym. “She didn’t do anything Tony. She’s just…we’re not friends.”

“Well,” said Tony, his eyebrows still somewhere up around his hairline, “the rest of the folks around here consider her a friend and we are throwing her a birthday party tonight. It would really be quite rude, very un Captain America, if you didn’t show up to a birthday party in your own home.” Tony looked…disappointed in him. Tony Stark thought he had bad manners.

He sighed. “I’ll make an appearance.” He said, his jaw clenching at the thought of having to play nice for an hour.

“You know,” said Tony as he walked out, “Eventually you will have to make friends with someone who doesn’t take orders from you.”

Steve absolutely loathed the way that Tony always managed to say the most irritating things right before he walked out of a room.

 +

 +

Steve dutifully sang along as Pepper brought out a birthday cake and all the residents of the Tower crowded around Darcy to watch her blow out the candles.

“Make a wish, kiddo” said Clint.

Steve was forced to admit, standing a little away from the group, hands shoved in his pocket, that she looked beautiful. Her face lit by the candles, smiling up at the group.

He could have sworn, as he was watching her, that her eyes flickered over him just before she blew out the candles. But it must have been a trick of the light.

“Presents now!” said Jane in a surprisingly commanding tone for such a tiny woman.

Not exactly having a lot of time, or really a strong inclination, to pick out a present, Steve had simply gone through his collection of paperbacks that had somehow survived, preserved by Howard Stark. If she was going to insist on shoving modern culture in his face, she could take a little bit of her own back. And he knew that she read a lot. She was constantly telling him he needed to be reading one book or another.

The look on her face when she unwrapped the book, though, made him think that maybe he had miscalculated.

“Steve,” she breathed out, “is this a first edition?” She ran her fingers over the cover, slightly yellowed with age but still in good condition.

“I suppose so,” he said uncomfortably. “I got it when I was a kid.”

She looked up sharply. “It’s one of yours?” her eyes were wide with surprise.

“Yes.” He was avoiding her gaze. He hadn’t really thought about it, but he supposed he didn’t really share the few remaining pieces of his old life with other people very often. And he had just given her the first edition of one of his favorite novels. Why did he do that? It _was_ just to prove a point, right?

“ _Rebecca_ is one of my favorites Steve, this is incredible.” She stood up somewhat hesitantly, which was unusual for her, and leaned over to press a kiss against his cheek. He held still for it stoically, trying not to notice the feel of it.

“Thank you.”

He didn’t like it, the look on her face, the way she was looking at him, and the way it made him feel really awful for all the times he was rude to her. Which, he supposed in retrospect, was all he could call upon to explain what he said next.

“It’s just an old paperback,” he said cuttingly, “don’t make a big deal.”

There was a dark stillness that settled over the room as all eyes turned to him. He watched Natasha’s eyebrow raise at him dangerously, felt his cheeks start to flush in frustration and embarrassment, and decided to cut his losses.

So he turned on his heel and left.

 +

 +

 He snuck out later that night, looking to spend some time in uniform, looking for a fight. Things were simpler for Captain America than they were for Steve Rogers.

By this time, he knew the areas to check out, the nightclubs near the edge of downtown: enough people, enough places to drink, and enough dark corners for there to be trouble.

He was perched at the top of a fire escape, his eyes tracking a man wearing a collar pulled up to high and a scarf wrapped too tight for the weather when his phone, tucked into a pocket of his suit, vibrated.

“Tony,” he answered after looking at the screen.

“Cap, you out and about tonight?” Tony’s voice was flat, without the humor that usually laced everything he said. Steve supposed that he deserved it.

“Yes,” he answered simply, “what’s up?”

“We lost Darcy. We went out downtown, but for _some_ reason she was a little upset and she wandered off on her own.”

Steve sighed. “Where were you, I’ll head in that direction and keep an eye out, let you know if I see her.”

“It’s the least you could do,” said Tony sharply, and then he named a cross street quite close by.

But before he could move, he saw the man he was tracking following a woman walking quickly down the street, far too close to the darkened alleyways for comfort.

He couldn’t just walk away from it.

Just as the woman passed the open entrance to the alley way where Steve was perched, the man grabbed her arm and dragged her into the shadows, shoving an arm over her mouth and pressing her against the wall.

“You keep your mouth shut and give me your purse, girl, and maybe I’ll let you just walk out of here.”

Steve was already in a particularly foul mood, so he was rather morbidly glad that this particular mugger was getting a bit physical.

He slid down the fire escape ladder, dropping down on the man`s right side.

“You let go of the girl, and I might just leave you for the police.” He said, gratified to see the man tense in surprise.

“Buddy, why don’t you just…” he turned and saw Captain America, with his best disapproving face on and his shield at the ready, facing him down.

He dropped his arms and started backing away. But Steve was too stunned to follow him as he ran out of the alley, because the girl, her makeup smeared and tears in her eyes, was Darcy.

She was staring back at him, wide eyed. He didn’t look away as he picked up his phone. “Tony,” he said as the line picked up, “I’ve got her. I’ll take her back to the Tower.”

Tucking the phone away, he walked up to her. “Are you alright?” he reached out, it looked like her cheek was bruised from where she was pushed against the wall.

“Don’t touch me,” she nearly spat at him, sliding away down the wall.

“Miss Lewis…” he paused, “Darcy…” Steve was at a loss, she was angry at him. He supposed he deserved it.

“Just don’t.” She said, more control in her voice this time, pulling her jacket more firmly around her and wiping at her eyes, “I get that you’re Captain America, and you’ll save the girl every time, even if it’s me, but I don’t really want to take any more from you tonight.”

“Even if it’s you?” Something was sinking in the pit of Steve’s stomach. Sure, he found himself irritated by her constant prodding about his past and modern culture, but she was still _Darcy_. Did she really think it would even cross his mind that he wouldn’t come to her rescue?

He had really messed this up-.

She paused for a moment, then let out a sigh. “I was trying to help, you know.” She said, pushing away from the wall. “No one in the Tower ever really asks you how you’re doing… And your eyes are always so sad. I was trying to get you interested in _being_ here. Everyone needs something in their lives.”

“I have something,” he said, gesturing with his shield.

“Not Captain America,” said Darcy sadly, “Steve Rogers.  The Captain might be off saving damsels in distress every night, but Steve Rogers just sits around the tower, refusing to let go of the past and make a connection with the present. It’s heartbreaking Steve,” her voice caught in her throat and it pulled at something in his gut.

He didn’t think anyone had noticed.

“But I’m giving up,” she said finally, “I get that I’m not helping. I promise I’ll leave you alone. Just, do me the same favor, okay?” Her chin was pointed firmly up, but her eyes were hazy with unshed tears.

He wondered how he could have been so self-absorbed, so miserable that he had misunderstood her so thoroughly.

He opened his mouth, even though he didn’t know what he was going to say. But she stopped him with a hand up.

“I just want to go home.”

He waited silently beside her until Happy drove up, he sat beside her silently in the car, he rode silently beside her in the elevator until he saw her safely to Jane, who threw her arms around her friend and glared at him.

His mind was anything but silent.

He was replaying in his head every time he had been angry at her, every time he had been rude and drove her away. And she had just been trying to help.

He thought, perhaps, that the fact that he had been pushing her back like that probably made her right. He wasn’t moving forward.

Maybe he did need help.

And maybe the thought of getting attached to something again, getting attached to someone, was terrifying.

 +

 +

Over the next few days, he had a lot of time to think about it. He was left well and truly alone.

He knew he was getting the cold shoulder, and that he definitely deserved it.

Also, he really needed to fix it before the team needed to Assemble again.

He just didn’t know how to go about doing it. He had been a soldier for so long, and he was a different man now than he had been before the war, in far more ways than just the physical.

He had _no idea_ how to be this man, in this time. And he’d been avoiding it like a coward, and taking it out on the one person who thought it worth her time to push at his defences.

He felt terrible.

Now, though. Now she wanted nothing to do with him. She would leave a room if he entered it, and every time he caught her eyes, the sadness and hurt he saw there made him look away.

Steve had always thought he was a pretty nice guy. Now he wasn’t so sure.

It was Natasha, as it often was, who finally took action. And by “took action,” she walked up to Steve in the living room with a determined look and cracked him across the face in an open handed slap.

“What?...” Steve managed in a shell shocked tone. Dammit, that woman could hit.

“Sit,” she instructed him firmly, pointing at a couch.

He sat.

“We’re all sick of you continuing to punish yourself like this, so I thought I’d do it for you and get it over with.” She said sharply.

Steve could only gape at her.

“You’ve been having a rough time acclimating to the 21st century, that’s understandable, and maybe we all should have stepped in sooner, but we chose to let you have your space.”

Steve nodded warily.

“Darcy, who is far more emotionally stable than the rest of us, tried to help you, and you responded by being an asshole.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” he finally managed to speak.

“So fix it,” she said with finality. “You make up with Darcy, you make up with the team.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He was still a bit dazed by the whole conversation, or maybe the slap.

She turned to go, “And Steve?”

He looked up at her questioningly.

“Let her help you, if you can. She’s…she’s the closest to real life that we have around here. It helps.”

+

+

I was easier said than done, as it turned out. It became very clear to him how muchDarcy had been seeking him out, trying to draw him into conversation, because now he could hardly ever find her. When he did, she was never alone.

The thought that she had continuously been looking for him, thinking about him, when he had been so rude to her, made his gut clench. If he hadn’t been so wrapped up in keeping himself away from the world, from not moving outside the comfort zone of being the Captain and a member of the team, he could have been _enjoying_ it.

He _would_ have enjoyed it.

He _wanted_ to.

Because she was smart, and well read, and funny, and yeah a bit pushy, but he kind of _liked_ that in a woman. And dear God in heaven how could he not have noticed how beautiful her eyes were before she was looking at him so sadly.

He was an idiot, that’s how.

In his defence though, he’d never been good with beautiful women. And when he was afraid of getting too attached to the world, having something to lose?

Well, he could definitely get attached to a girl like Darcy.

He tried to shut down that train of thought. He’d be lucky if she’d ever speak to him again, after how he behaved.

+

+

He finally tracked her down out on the balcony one night. She was curled up on one of the padded deck chairs, reading a book in the light streaming out from the living room.

He approached very cautiously.

“Hi,” he said, wincing at the look in her eyes as she put down her book.

“Do you need something?” she asked sharply, and he definitely deserved that.

“I’ve been trying to find a minute with you all week,” he started nervously.

“I know,” she said flatly. “I’ve been avoiding you. I promised I was giving up.”

“Don’t,” he was standing next to her now, her face half shadowed as she turned up to look at him in surprise.

 “What?”

“Don’t give up on me,” he stuck his hands in his pocket, wishing he didn’t sound quite so pathetic when he said it.

There was a long pause. And then Darcy put a marker in her book, set it down, and stood up to face him. In her bare feet, her head barely reached his shoulder, and Steve couldn’t help thinking how easy it would be to pull her into his arms, how well she would fit.

“You really hurt my feeling Steve,” she said finally, her arms crossed tightly across her chest, looking up at him defensively.

“I know,” his voice was quiet even to his own ears, “and I’m so sorry. I was just so wrapped up…being…”

“Miserable?” she suggested.

“Alone,” he finished. “And it’s hard to be lonely when you’re around.”

Her lips twisted up into the beginnings of a smile at that.

“You know,” she said wryly, “that was sort of the whole point.”

“I’m an idiot,” Steve agreed readily, “But I’ve sort of always been an idiot around beautiful women. Not typically quite as spectacularly idiotic as I have been with you, generally just…awkward, but….” He ran a hand through his hair, he was rambling.

And she was staring at him.

“What?” he asked.

“You think I’m beautiful?” she asked softly. And the way she was looking up at him, her big brown eyes soft and _focused_ on him, made him think that maybe he had a shot at this, if he could figure out the right thing to do for once in his life.

“Of _course_ I do,” he said with a feeling that surprised him.

“I thought you couldn’t stand to be around me…” she broke his gaze, her eyes cast down. She looked so vulnerable that all he wanted to do was reach out for her. So he took a deep breath, and reached out to wrap his hands around her slender shoulders.

“It was my fault,” he said, “I was so afraid of having something to lose again. I guess I was just hoping I could stay alone, never be anything but the Captain, and never have to lose anyone again. And you…” he blew out a breath. This conversation was leading to things that he had only just started letting himself think about and were _still_ terrifying to him, but he owed it to her.

“I think that if I had ever let myself really talk to you, I would have fallen for you in a second.”

Darcy looked up at him sharply, eyes wide and surprised.

“Well,” she said shakily, “you’re talking to me now.”

This was the moment that Bucky told him he was always terrible at. Where he thought maybe he should make a move, but then would immediately second guess himself. For the first time in a long time, he remembered Bucky with a smile.

_Come on soldier, once more into the breach, take that hill, over the top, whatever it takes. You have to learn to take your chances Steve-o, who knows when you’ll get another one._

“Yeah,” he said, one hand moving to cup her cheek like they always did in the pictures, “I am.” And he leaned in, moving slowly until he saw her eyelids flutter closed, giving her time to move away. But she didn’t, and he pressed his lips against hers, soft and sweet. Her mouth opened under him, and the taste of her was intoxicating.

It was brief, really, and innocent. But Steve felt his whole world reorient. Suddenly, everything worthwhile wasn’t behind him, and greater adventures lay ahead. He rested his head against the top of her hair, reeling with the idea of it.

It was her who pulled away first.

“Steve…” she started, “I can’t just…”

He stepped away from her immediately, “I’m sorry,” he blurted, his stomach sinking. Of _course_ she didn’t want…

“Steve,” she was smiling at him, rolling her eyes in amusement. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh,” he felt silly, a flush heating his cheeks, but he couldn’t stop himself from grinning, “good.”

“Come back here,” she said softly, pulling her arms around his waist until she settled her head against his chest. He tentatively stroked the silky hair lying down her back and thought that she really _did_ fit well in his arms.

“What I meant was I can’t be the reason you want to be here.”

She must have felt him tense.

“Well not the only reason,” she amended, and he felt her cheek turn up in a smile against his chest.

“And this is a pretty sudden turn around. I mean, up until right now I’ve either been annoying you or ignoring you the whole time we’ve known each other.”

“Because I’m an idiot,” he added quickly.

“Because you’re an idiot,” she agreed, but it sounded soft and kind the way she said it. “I wanted to help you, to get to know you, because Steve Rogers seems like he’d be a really great guy to know, but we don’t really know each other yet. And I won’t be your crutch.” She sounded firm at this, “You can’t all of a sudden just decide that you’re going to dive into a girl like she’s the one thing in the 21st century that you don’t mind. I can’t be everything, no one person can be.”

She was right, he knew. Because it _would_ be so easy to go on being closed off, to put everything on her and continue to avoid the rest of the modern world.

It didn’t mean he _liked_ it though.

“So,” he managed finally, “what does that mean…for, for _this_ , I mean.” He pulled her a little tighter to him.

“It means,” she pulled away to look at him, “When I walk off this balcony, we’re going to hit reset. We can forget that whole chunk of time where you couldn’t stand me, and that whole chunk of time where I ignored you, and we can start over. Get to know each other, as friends.”

“As friends?” he must have sounded dismayed, because she grinned.

“At least to start out with,” her fingers at his low back drew a slow circle.

“The minute you walk off the balcony,” he confirmed. She nodded.

“Well then,” he took a breath, “I’ll just have to make sure you can’t forget about _everything_ when you do.” And, in what was probably the boldest move of his life up to that point, he leaned in swiftly and captured her mouth again.

She let out a little squeak of surprise, her breath puffing against his cheek, before going pliant in his arms, her mouth opening, her arms tightening around his waist, one hand climbing up his spine.

He kissed her the very best he knew how. He hadn’t kissed all that many women, and he hadn’t done it all that many times, so maybe they were just _right_ together, but it was as easy as breathing; the way their mouths fit together, the way she tipped her head so he could press closer to her, the slick of her tongue against his bottom lip, the way even when they fought to dominate the kiss, no one was losing.

She was breathless and flushed when they finally pulled apart, and he could have gone on kissing her forever.

But she moved away from him and picked up her book. “Goodnight Steve,” she said, and her voice was steady as she smiled at him. But he saw her touch her lips with the tips of her fingers as she walked through the door, and it made him feel light in a way he couldn’t remember feeling in a long time.

+

+

The next day, it was quiet in the tower when he got up, but for the first time since Darcy’s birthday, someone had made a fresh pot of coffee for him.

It must have been Darcy, because sitting beside it was a book.   _East of Eden_. It looked well loved.

He looked to the publication date. 1952.

There was writing on the inner cover. At the top of the blank page was written: “For Darcy, Read everything you can get your hands on. This one’s good. Love, Granny Lewis.”  The writing was faded and smudged.

Below it, in fresh ink, was a new dedication.

“For Steve, the beginning of your slow introduction to the 21st century. Who knows, maybe you’ll get to the 60’s by Christmas. Love, Darcy.”

 


End file.
